Swan Queen Collection
by mechanicsofaheart1
Summary: Bunch of one-shots full with Swan Queen smut, fluff, angst and other stuff.
1. It's time

**It's time**

In that moment when her fingers first push inside of me, I gasp. My mouth opens in a silent scream just as she opens my core, inch by inch, with just her long fingers. It feels like forever until she fills me completely. It feels like enough when her fingertips reach the end. It feels strange that it takes only two of her fingers sliding inside of me to make the hole in my heart whole again. It turns out I didn't need anything else but her want and desire. Her passion for me. Her magic. Her fingers. Her.

And it hurts. Oh, God, how it hurts. Knowing that the answer was that simple. That I have been avoiding it for so long. And it came to this. She and I, hiding from everyone in this tiny space. Trying not to scream in passion. Trying to shut down the feelings. Trying to fight them. Trying to put the fires in us down.

Her thrusts speed up and I close my eyes, praying to chase away the tears, but they emerge from under my lashes, and I feel them sliding down the side of my face, burning my heated skin.

True to herself, she kisses them away, like she has always done. She comes in front of me and makes the source of the pain vanish into thin air. She protects me. She risks her life for mine time after time, because that is what soul-mate means: someone willingly giving their life for you; someone that always challenges you and is not afraid to fight with you.

Her hot breath caresses my ears as she whispers words of love; but only here in this dark, tiny space where it's just her and me, no one else, because outside we are just the mothers of our son, nothing more. We are anything but what we really are.

Her fingers touch that hot spot inside of me, somewhere on my walls, that I never knew existed, with each thrust, building up my climax. Just as I start clenching around her, I hear a commotion outside.

"You can't see the bride before the wedding." Henry's voice reaches our ears.

I freeze, but she continues murmuring 'I love you' against the skin of my neck.

I reach down and push my hand under her dress. The material is fluffy and I spend quite some time until I reach my destination. Her core is wet and ready for me and I'm pretty sure she will need four clit strokes to come undone.

There is noise again outside; heavy steps going all around the room.

"Where is she? I need to see her." He asks.

"You can't see the bride before the wedding." Henry stands his ground.

"Okay," he sighs heavily. "Just makes sure she comes down."

"Sure."

"If you weren't buried so deep in me, I would come down on you," I whisper into her ear and then bite the warm flesh with my teeth.

"Hurry, guys." Henry calls out to us when Emma growls against my neck and bites down.

"Fuck," I manage to muffle my scream as I nuzzle her neck.

She comes shortly after me.

We press foreheads, hearts beating fast in unison, bodies still trembling from the orgasms.

"Guys, it's time," Henry says from the other side of the door.

Our eyes meet in silent agreement. _It's time to run_.


	2. Temporary bliss

**Temporary bliss**

It's the middle of the night when she comes into your bedroom again. Her smell, a mix of magic and apples, invades your nose. Her warmth touches you in all the right places and it heats you. Her gaze is half-hooded, drunk for sure.

She strips before you without a single word, and you have to shake head and rub your eyes to make sure you are not dreaming. But then again, it can't be the same dream, every night, over and over again. It feels far too real to be a dream as your eyes rake over the naked goddess before you and a gush of arousal ruins your black boxers.

In a flash, she is over you, on all fours, gazing down at you as if she wants to say something but is too afraid. She parts your legs with hers, never breaking eye contact.

You take her face with your hands and pull her down. You kiss. It's passionate, noisy, wet, messy, and almost surreal; just like your feelings for each other. Whatever is between you and her is all of the above and so much more. It's all you have and don't have at the same time. You have it here, in the middle of the night in your bedroom, with your kid sleeping in the next room and your parents downstairs. But you don't have it when you wake up in the morning next to a cold and empty bed.

She breaks the kiss to tear the tank top away from your body. Her mouth is on your nipple; licking, sucking, nipping, loving. Her mouth reconnects with yours as she lowers herself, resting her body fully on yours. The weight is welcome and wanted. Her other leg goes between yours, and you move your hands up and down her back. She leans her upper body on her elbows and starts rocking against you. To encourage her, you put your hands on her butt and squeeze the warm flesh underneath your palms.

Your heart drums wildly against your chest. It threatens to leave you for her but, honestly, you don't mind it because she has already taken possession of it. It was hers since the first day your eyes met. And it will be her till the day it stops beating.

The rocking becomes too much of a tease for you and your hand goes up front to touch her wetness. Apparently she has had it with the rocking too as you feel her hand mirroring yours. You enter her with two fingers as she does the same to you. It's kind of your thing; this addiction to do to the other what she had done to you, and you are sure it's hers too, because she always comes to you, but never makes the first move. She always waits for you to kiss her first, to ignite her fire.

Being noisy, voicing your arousal is out of the question. She knows it, you know it, though you crave to hear her moan, groan or whatever noise she makes when she orgasm. It is a magnificent sight to see her coming all over your fingers, over you, under you, wetting everything.

You always change sheets afterwards.

But you still need to hear. It is the only forbidden fruit of hers that you have yet to taste.

Coming from her hand is nothing short of a temporary bliss. It is like an explosion of emotion, magic and sparkles behind your eyelids, in your heart, in your lower abdomen. It spread all over your body, consuming it. You feel lost until the orgasmic haze lifts itself from you, leaving you utterly satisfied, yet craving _more_.

_More_.

You wake up with a start: body naked, bed empty, like you always have. Maybe _more_ will come today.


	3. Weakness

**Weakness**

**Rating M. Warnings: Underage but consensual sex.**

Principal Regina Mills is looking at the scheduling chart that she needs to finish today. Having more than one sick teacher in the same week is the worst. Add to that the fact that the school troublemaker Emma Swan is on her 'best' behavior, and you have yourself a disaster.

And Regina hates disasters.

An idea about how to arrange the classes strikes her when there is a knock on the door.

"Fuck," she curses under her breath and then says with higher voice, "Come in."

The door open and reveals Emma Swan wearing her usual attire – a black rapper's hat with the peak at the back, a black leather jacket with a loose shirt underneath, low waist boyfriend jeans with a black leather belt. And...wait. What's that?

"You called for me, Ms. Mills." Emma says, after giving her enough time to take in what she has just seen.

"Um..." Regina blinks and tears her eyes from the girl's crotch. "It is not appropriate to..." She feels a wave of heat washing over her. "Um...display such behavior on school grounds." Her eyes avoid the younger woman.

"What. Kind. Of. Behavior?" Emma says, taking a step towards the principal with each word. Finally, she is just two steps away from the desk and sees Regina's gaze on her crotch.

The older woman straightens her pose and leans backwards, trying to play it cool.

"I think it's for the best if you leave this school," she says after clearing her throat.

"Seriously?" Emma raises an eyebrow and goes around the desk, grabs the chair and spins it around until she is face to face with the principal.

"Yes." Regina says, focusing in the eyes before her.

"Well, I feel like you need to be convinced." Emma suggests.

"There is no wa..." A rough pull away from the chair cuts Regina's words off.

Emma spins Regina around and throws her against her own desk. A bunch of papers, along with the monitor, are falling on the floor.

"What the..."

Before Regina has time to protest, her face is shoved on the wooden surface, effectively silencing her.

"Did anyone tell you that you talk too much?"

It's more of a stating the obvious that anything else and Regina curses her body for letting her arousal drip down her thigh. She also regrets putting on a dress without panties today.

Emma drags her nails over the inner thighs of the principal, enjoying the squirm she gets as a respond.

It has always been so fucking hot to see this naturally uptight control freak losing herself so much just because of nail marks on her skin. She doesn't think of this as punishment for punishing people. No. She loves it. She fucking loves every second of it and it isn't for her pride she would beg.

But she never begs. Not ever.

She yanks the navy blue dress up Regina's ass, revealing nothing but smooth shaven skin. Was she expecting something like this to happen? Quite possibly.

The thing that nearly short-circuits Emma's brain is the amount of wetness dripping down Regina's core. She has always been wet, but this is just...

"Fuck," Regina hears from behind her and wonders, briefly, what is so surprising?

Emma runs a single finger up and down the slit, smearing the arousal all over the place.

"Nice and wet, ready to take it. And all of this is for me." She says, trying to sound not so affected by the sight before her green eyes.

The next thing Regina feels is a thumb brushing over her clit. And then circles. Those damn circles that drive her crazy, almost to the point of her begging for orgasm. But almost is the key word.

In this strange game they have been playing ever since Emma was transferred into Regina's school, the principal has never allowed a moment of weakness. She has been maintaining her status of HBIC and no one would take that from her; certainly not Emma Swan.

But then she hears the sound of a zipper pulling down and she gulps. Not with fear... Well, maybe a little. But mostly because with excitement. She is letting this eighteen year old girl, who has struggles with finishing high school, manhandle her like that. Why? Simply because everyone else is too chicken to even think about it. And of course, all this young flesh at her disposal is certainly an asset.

Her heart races, waiting, expecting the unknown. She tenses, trying to hear anything other than her own heartbeat in her ears.

"There it is."

Then she feels it. The rough thrust, all the way in. The thrust with a strap-on that nearly knocks the air out of her lungs.

Emma doesn't still. She doesn't give her the time to adjust. No. She pulls out, leaving just the tip in and then slams back in, and again and again, creating a steady rhythm with long, hard thrusts that will bring Regina to the edge in record time.

The increasing wetness that helps the strap-on to slide in and out doesn't help Regina at all. On the contrary. It proves how weak she can be.

"So fucking wet," the woman behind her growls.

Emma becomes even more confident and cocky than she already is.

She slaps the butt before her, sending jolts of arousal down to Regina's core and eliciting muffled moans from the woman underneath.

Muffled, because Regina is biting her lip. She can't afford to be vocal in her own office.

"That butt was just begging me to do it."

The rough material of the jeans bruises her tender flesh with each thrust in, but it also brings her closer to the peak.

She almost lose it all when Emma grabs a fist full of hair and pulls it back, straining her neck backwards. The pain is something Regina has gotten used to since this thing with Emma started.

But she definitely loses all control when Emma snakes a finger to her clit. It is barely touched when Regina comes all over the fake cock and the jeans with choked gasp, the evidence of her weakness making a huge wet spot on the light denim.

Emma pulls out abruptly and smiles at the still shaking woman. Looking down at her strap-on and jeans she curses, pretending to be angry, "Fuck, you ruined my favorites."

Without a single word she puts the cock back into its place and zips her pants.

She leaves Regina alone with her shame, if that exists, but not before throwing one last line over her back.

"I'll send you the bill for the damage."

Because Emma Swan loves to play with Regina Mills' weakness.


	4. Anniversary

**Anniversary**

Ten years, she thinks; lying on the beach and feeling the sun caressing her naked skin. She didn't want to go in the water because she was feeling more tired than usual.

She hears them playing in the water and teasing each other and can't help but smile. This is her family. This is her happy ending.

She feels a kick in her stomach, then one more, and then a third one.

"Emma," she screams at the top of her lungs. Her heart races as she tries to stand up.

Emma runs to her side, water dripping from her body onto the other woman's, and kneels beside her. "What?" She asks, panting heavily.

"Mom, what's up?" Henry sits on her other side.

"Mama, you hurt?" Amy, the five year old curly-haired blonde, asks.

"No," Regina sighs, feeling calmer already. "It's just that the babies are kicking."

"Let's go to the hospital." Emma insists.

"While I do love your mama bear mode, this is nothing to worry about, Emma. The triplets are kicking."

"Are you sure?" Emma is not convinced.

"Yes."

"Because the last time..."

"Yes, but..." Regina cuts her off and looks at Amy, then back to her wife. "The last time gave us Amy, and we should focus on that."


End file.
